


Like To Like

by Petronia



Series: Prince of Tennis stories (non-Private Beach continuity) [1]
Category: Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-05
Updated: 2004-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petronia/pseuds/Petronia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets from the early days of Niou and Yagyuu's friendship.  Based on a prompts list that's now lost to the mists of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like To Like

Most human relationships sum up neatly in one hoary cliché or another, and Niou and Yagyuu are no exception. Casual and even intimate onlookers see it as an obvious case of attraction between polarities: less within the purview of logic than that of electromagnetics. Yagyuu may even agree.

Niou thinks of it as like calling to like. It never ceases to amaze him that others so consistently confuse courtesy with kindness.

***

  
An example: people make certain requests without expectation of refusal. Perfunctory turns of phrase: _oi, Niou, pass me my towel, will you? Niou-kun, may I borrow your English dictionary for a second?_ A certain percentage of the time Niou says no to these questions. "No, of course not." Straight face, direct and guileless gaze. By simplicity ye shall know the true classic. The side advantage of pulling someone's leg this way is that it divides the flock of humanity to one's right hand and left, as long as Niou can manage not to crack up for about two seconds. The goats only blink once before they catch on, and say "haha" with exaggerated sarcasm born of embarrassment - though it doesn't keep them from blinking again the next time Niou does it. The sheep _don't_ catch on unless Niou cracks up. The cud rises, the eyes glaze over with self-conscious dismay, they start to wonder what they did wrong, what false assumption they made, what inadvertent faux pas. Unless of course it's kindling rage and they're wondering what the fuck Niou's problem is and if he's trying to start something. Fleeced, either way.

Niou's been acquainted with Yagyuu for all of ninety minutes before he trots this one out on him. Yagyuu doesn't blink. He was already reaching for the dictionary on Niou's desk, and no hitch occurs in the motion of his hand and arm. Niou watches, rapt, as he takes up the dictionary and flips to the appropriate page. One finger glides down to the definition; Yagyuu murmurs something under his breath, makes a notation in his textbook, closes the dictionary and hands it back.

"I apologise for the presumption, then," he says.

The temptation exists to explicate this story with a flourish, call it love at first sight, just to make the hypothetical audience grin and Yagyuu twitch. But even hiding in plain view implies that there's something to hide, and Niou doesn't care whether he amuses or antagonises other people as long as he stays honest with himself. That's his baseline.

If you can't be honest with yourself, you may as well block your ears and stake your tongue and apply to be one of the deaf-mutes that make up the overwhelming majority of the population. Niou doesn't want any part of it.

***

Of course it was obvious from the start that Yagyuu - while in no wise resembling a mountain - isn't the type to meet anyone halfway. Most people, girls and adults especially, are too charmed and relieved by the politeness to realise that it's Yagyuu's way of imposing his own sense of appropriate distance. Thus Niou found himself saddled with the role of Chinese sage. It was just as well that he enjoyed method acting.

He was the one who suggested Yagyuu join the tennis club. It felt ludicrous even at the time; if "global personal development" weren't in the Rikkaidai Fuzoku charter (meaning in practice that extracurricular sports are mandatory unless one fails the draft physical), he'd never have bothered to sign up himself. As it is he arrived at tennis by virtue of eliminating all sports that hinge on teamwork, and all those that come down purely to physical ability. Anything where you're chasing a set of numbers alongside your opponent instead of looking him in the eye is boring by definition. Tennis, however, is at least as mental as it was physical – or so he understood it – and if Niou excels at anything, it's disrupting other people's concentration.

In due course he found he liked it. But not before Yagyuu managed to out-do his expectations for the second time running.

"Golf?" he said, and Yagyuu had to stop because Niou had stopped, and Yagyuu was the one holding the umbrella. It was pouring rain, the kind that was early for the season, tepid water coming down like someone had turned on a large faucet in the sky. The air smelt like greenhouse, with a base note of dingy city.

"A noble activity," Yagyuu said, "that requires both skill and mental focus. I found it enjoyable, which is more than I can say for sports of the contact variety." Niou thought about this, but only for less than a second. Most of that fraction of a second was taken up by wondering if preppiness could be fatal in its advanced stages.

"I am _not_ joining the golf team."

Yagyuu gave him a long, peculiar look.

"It's something of a moot point, Niou-kun," he said, "as regrettably there is no golf team."

It wasn't until Niou thought about it later that he realised the look really meant, _what does it have to do with_ you?


End file.
